


Stillness of the Mind

by bettysdryer



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettysdryer/pseuds/bettysdryer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This whole thing was ridiculous and wrong and messed up – the both of them were – but he was having the time of his life anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stillness of the Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a fic in a very long time, but I just had to try my hand at this. No clue if I was successful or not, but I had to do it. FOR SCIENCE.

It was a beautiful and awful thing. A “terrible privilege”, as Tony had once said. Tony, with all his quips and shoulder pats and long looks when he thought Bruce couldn't see. And hours upon hours spent in labs, for no real purpose other than because they could. Imagined stolen kisses in doorways, on top of tables, against the wall.

Bruce Banner was in love with Tony Stark.

And it was a wonderful, terrible, amazing, self-destructive thing.

* * *

The moment he knew it was a particularly snowy night. He was sitting by the large window at his apartment in Stark Towers ( _how great to have an obscenely wealthy friend who owned his own building_ ). The snow pounded against the glass ferociously – BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

“Hey there,” came Tony's voice from behind him. Tony had a habit of just walking right in – no announcement, no knocking – but Bruce had gotten used to that by now. He had never really minded, anyway. It's not like he was ever doing anything.

“Hey,” he said back, still staring out the window.

Tony sidled up next to him, hands in his pockets. “Anything interesting?”

“They're calling it the storm of the century. Half the city's power is out.”

“Not here, though.”

“Ha. Obviously.” He turned around. “What's up?”

“Oh, nothing, really.” Tony flopped down on the couch. “Bored.”

“I don't think I'll be very stimulating company,” Bruce said. “I was about to head to bed.”

“Bed? It's only midnight! C'mon. Let's have a drink.”

“Heh. You can have a drink, I'll just... watch, I guess,” he said, moving next to Tony from his spot by the window.

“What, does alcohol make you Hulk out?”

“Not that I know of, I just... don't want to?”

Tony shrugged and headed over to the un-used bar in the corner. “So I give you a room stocked with the finest brandy and scotch, and you don't even use them? I see how it is.”

“That I don't like scotch and brandy?”

“Exactly.” He poured himself a glass and propped himself against the bar, all lean lines, his arc reactor shining behind his white shirt. “I consider it a personal affront.”

“Well, my apologies.”

Tony took a swig. “So, Cap's floor is almost finished. We can probably put the final touches on it by next Friday, bring him in. Though I'm sure he'll shit all over it, but what can ya do – not literally shit on it, I mean. Obviously. Though maybe he would. It's always the quiet ones.”

“Nah, I'll think he'll like it. Definitely don't think he'll poop on it.” Bruce stretched, and Tony stared. “But yeah, he should be fine with it. Especially the uh, the the thing with the fashion throughout the decades. Bet he always wanted to know what women wore during the 1980's.”

“Hey, don't knock the 80's, pal. Great decade. 1983 was the year I lost my virginity.”

“You lost your virginity when you were ten?”

“Did I say 1983? I meant 1987. But whatever. Still the 80's. Good times. Nice girl. Her name was Genevieve, I think. She called me Lancelot. Not sure why.”

“Her knight in shining armor, I guess.” Bruce cleared his throat. “It's getting pretty late. Shouldn't you be – ”

“Who'd you pop your cherry with, Banner?” Tony interrupted. He poured himself another scotch.

“Uh – a girl.”

“Maybe being a bit more specific would be good.”

“Um, Betty Ross. We went to college together.”

“Really? You didn't lose the big V until you were in college? I find that difficult to believe.”

“Well, we can't all be charming, good looking guys like you.”

Tony smirked at this, and peered at Bruce over his glass. “Don't sell yourself short, big man.”

Bruce shrugged and rubbed his neck. He felt a strange stirring – not a Hulk stirring, but something else. “So...”

“Are you alright?” Tony put down his empty glass and came over to sit next to him. “You seem kinda out of it. Just a smidge.”

“I'm just tired, is all.” Something about how close Tony was, was making him nervous.

“Of course! Of course. You need your beauty sleep and all.” He paused. “I just – before I go, I just wanted to ask...”

“Ask what?”

“Well, I've noticed, lately, you've been a little... withdrawn? More than usual, anyway. Anything you want to talk about?” A searching gaze. Bruce always felt like Tony was looking for the right button to press to get the response he wanted.

“I haven't been – I'm fine,” he said, surprised.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, good. I wouldn't want you to... get low again.” A deeply pained expression flitted across Tony's face for an instant, before the usual look of wry amusement returned.

“I haven't felt that way in a long time, Tony,” Bruce said in a low voice. “You don't need to worry about me. Not about that.”

“I will, anyway,” he said. “I have to. It's my job... my personal responsibility to make sure you don't feel like that ever again.”

Bruce hadn't even noticed that Tony had taken hold of his hand. He felt his blood rushing, through arteries and capillaries, from his head to his arms to his heart to his hands. Tony was _looking_ and _looking_ and Bruce was looking back – and suddenly he _knew_.

“Thank you,” he managed to choke out.

“Anytime.” Tony smiled at him, and there was a great warmth that seemed to spreading everywhere, and _goddammit_.

Tony left not too long after, leaving Bruce alone and staring at the ceiling.

“Oh, this is bad,” he said aloud to no one. “This is Bad News Bears.”

He was in love with Tony Stark and he was an idiot.

* * *

The next week passed by without much fanfare, except for Tony showing him the half-finished “Incredible Hulk” floor (he'd laughed at the giant pair of stretchy pants on display – “Can't have a Naked Hulk again, now can we?” Tony had said).

Bruce was trying to ignore his own thoughts – thoughts about Tony, about wanting to screw him against every available surface, about his eyes and his fingers and also what he might look like shirtless – as best as he could. It's just a silly crush, he kept telling himself, even though he knew it was more than that. He wasn't totally new to the experience of having , _those_ kind of feelings for another man. There had been the boy in his English class in high school. Mike Martin. Dumbest guy he'd ever met, but incredibly handsome and kind. Bruce would frequently doodle stupid, lovey-dovey things about him in the margins of his chem notes.

But either way, it was pointless to even think about anything happening with Tony, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist he was, so Bruce buried himself in his research. He had long despaired of ever finding a cure for his condition, but now that he had unlimited access to such incredible facilities – and for lack of anything better to do – he might as well try.

It was midnight again, and Bruce had fallen asleep over his work, glasses hanging crooked on his head, when a tap on the shoulder jolted him awake.

“How goes the research?” Tony asked as Bruce yelped. He had pulled up a stool next to him, glass of whiskey in hand.

“Oh! Hi.” Bruce pulled his glasses back down and felt his heartbeat go faster than a jackrabbit. He took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact. “Not great, but getting there.”

“I could help you, you know.”

“I know. But that's okay.” He rubbed his face. “Thanks for the offer, though. Is there any coffee?”

Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “I'll brew a fresh pot. Tell me about your progress.”

“There hasn't really been much progress,” Bruce said. “I thought maybe I could replicate Sterns' serum and improve on it, but the formula's been lost and I haven't had any luck yet. I'm not even entirely sure of the components used to create it.”

“How do you know the formula's lost?” The coffee grinder began whirring.

“There was a fire... and Sterns hasn't been seen since. Definitely don't want to run into him again, though. He wants the general public to have Other Guys. He's pretty cuckoo for cocoa puffs.”

“Too bad. But maybe it's for the best.” 

He looked up. “For the best. Really.”

“You remember what you did. You helped save the world. Do you really want to give that up? Go back to being a regular man? Well – not regular, but definitely not someone who can punch the shit out of a bunch of alien cyborgs and save me from a million mile fall from deep space.”

He thought. “I don't know. I don't like the uncertainty. It's... it's like an out of body experience. I don't remember the details of everything afterwards, but... but I remember the feeling. The feeling of... it's like, I am perfectly still. Suspended somewhere. But also there's chaos. This... sense of being out of control and yet totally in control at the same time. Sometimes I don't know whether it's the other guy or... whether it's _me_.”

There was a silence, and Bruce could practically feel Tony's intense gaze. The look on his face was... inscrutable. “You still been feeling okay?” Tony asked, sipping the last of his whiskey.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm still good.” The coffee was ready, and Bruce got up to pour himself a mug.

Tony was standing right behind him, and Bruce could feel his breath on his neck. His shoulder cringed involuntarily. Every nerve felt like it had just been electrocuted.

“I know you don't like to talk about it,” Tony said as Bruce headed back to his seat. “But I was wondering... does the Hulk have any other kind of side effects on you? In your regular life, I mean.”

“Well,” said Bruce, fingering the mug's handle. “I can't... I can't have sexual relations with anyone. That's a pretty big hindrance on my regular life.”

Bruce heard a thud as Tony accidentally knocked the can of coffee beans off the counter.

“Wait, what?” said Tony. “So you're telling me... you don't have sex?”

“No.”

“You don't have sex at _all_? Not even a little?”

“No, I don't.”

“ _Ever_.”

“Not ever.”

“Not even masturbating?”

“Nope.”

He looked absolutely horrified. “But... _how_?”

Bruce shrugged. “It's hard – er, difficult – but I manage.”

“So you Hulk out when you're getting it on? I just – holy crap. Wow. When did you find this out? Who was the unlucky recipient of Hulk penis?”

Bruce almost spat out his coffee. “I – uh, no one was.”

“Oh, it happened while you were taming the beast? So to speak.”

“No, it didn't.”

Tony looked confused. “Well... then how do you know?”

“Because an increased heart rate is what triggers... the Other Guy... and obviously when you're doing stuff... you know, increased blood flow and whatnot. Standard biology.”

“But you're drinking coffee.”

“What?”

“You're drinking coffee. You've been drinking coffee all night. Your heart rate is already increased, and look. Nothing. You're still Bruce Banner. And didn't you say that you figured out that the secret was to always be angry? Always be stressed out? So, it seems to me that – maybe – you were wrong about the sex thing.”

Bruce stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. “No. No, sex is different. There's a lot of... no, I'm sure.”

“How sure?”

“Pretty sure. Like, ninety percent sure.”

“Ninety percent isn't a hundred percent. You know what I think?” 

“No, what?”

“I think you have a perfectly valid hypothesis, but you haven't put it to the test yet. You can't prove it until you... experiment.” Tony went to sip his whiskey again but there was none left. “Crap.”

“Ha! And who in the world would be willing to put themselves at risk like that?” He glugged down the last of his coffee.

“Oh, I don't know...” Tony got up and began casually strolling around the lab, picking things up and putting them back down for no apparent reason. “Someone you trust, maybe. Someone who trusts you, implicitly, absolutely, incorrigibly. Maybe even another scientist.”

Bruce sighed. “Betty and I haven't... for a long time. And anyway, she's engaged. Or maybe she's married by now. God, I don't even know...” He felt a wave of sadness wash over him.

“Well, maybe not Betty, then. Someone else. Someone who can help you. Who can defend themselves, too, if the 'other guy' makes an appearance.” He tossed his whiskey glass from hand to hand, not looking at him.

“But who could – ” Bruce felt his soul leave his body. “Wait... are you suggesting...”

“Suggesting what?” Tony asked, an innocent look on his face that Bruce didn't buy for a second.

“That I sleep with _you_.” He couldn't believe this was an actual conversation he was actually having with the actual Tony Stark _what was going on_.

“Me? Huh! Well, I hadn't considered that,” he said, tapping his glass against his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose – well, I guess I could do that for you. It does make sense, after all. A fellow scientist, assisting another scientist in an important, world-changing experiment that will forever – ”

“Tony.”

“What?”

“Is this you trying to seduce me? Because you're doing a spectacularly bad job.”

“I am? I mean – no, I am not trying to seduce you! You're the one who brought it up, not me, Mr. Jekyll,” Tony said, fidgeting with his empty glass again.

“It's Dr. Jekyll, and don't call me that. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm not doing... you.”

“Hey, you could do a lot worse, pal!”

“No, that's not – it's not that I don't _want_ to, 'cause I... I mean...” Oh, God. This wasn't going to end well. “And anyway, why would you even want to? I mean, you're Tony Stark, for crying out loud, and I'm just some guy who was a lab experiment gone wrong and turns into a psychotic, smashy green monster when he has a bad day.”

An overly long silence fell that made the air itself seem heavy. “Is that really what you think?” Tony asked softly. He took a step closer and put down his whiskey glass. “You're a lot more than the Hulk, Bruce, and you know it. You _have_ to know that.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I do.”

Bruce turned his gaze back to him, and their eyes locked. Something in the air felt... different. Electrically charged, although that was obviously impossible.

Before he even knew what was happening, they were kissing, and he could taste the alcohol on Tony's breath, he wanted to say they shouldn't do this, it was a mistake, because Pepper was perfect and Bruce was fucked up and the biggest mess in the world and a psychologist's wet dream, but Tony's lips were on his, stubble pressed against his cheek, tongue in his mouth, and then... nothing else seemed to matter. Hands ran through hair, lab equipment knocked over, Bruce nearly fell out of his chair but he stood up instead and he slammed Tony against the table, and Tony laughed against him. Everything was throbbing and the world was simultaneously more focused and more blurry around the edges. He felt himself rise, and Tony too, as hands travelled and touched touched touched and it was all almost a sensory overload and he could feel it, feel it deep inside and just waiting for the right moment to emerge but he couldn't help but ignore it because this all felt so _right_ and so _perfect_ and this was going to be so much and yet not enough.

There was a connection, there had always been, from the moment they'd met, this was inevitable, it had always been inevitable, everything had been leading to this perfect, glorious moment, and he kept telling himself this as Tony shoved his hand down his pants and the beast inside his chest screamed and fought to get out.

No, you're _not_ getting out, Bruce told him, and bit Tony's neck. Not today. Not now. Not unless I tell you to. _You don't control me, I control YOU._

But that wasn't right. He knew it was the other way around.

Their shirts were gone, and Bruce ran his tongue around the edge of Tony's arc reactor, and Tony's shudders sent vibrations all the way through him, all the way down to the beast below who clawed and roared. 

A great surge of energy – incomprehensible noises – and a deep thrumming, and a complete sense of everything in the universe and it was just the two of them, both wrong and messed up and brilliant, in their own ways, together and together and together. Bruce pulled down his pants, Tony's too, and ignored himself, ignored the other one, ignored everything except Tony and how perfect he was in all his flaws and genius.

“I don't – want to hurt you – ” he heard himself say.

“You won't,” Tony gasped. “I know you.”

He knew him – no one else really knew, really _understood_ him – he thrust against him and Tony cried out, and gripped the edge of the metal table as Bruce dug his nails into his hips.

“I know you, too,” he said, and Tony moaned as he thrust again, Bruce stroking his cock from behind, feeling the veins and patches and skin.

There was more – more – but it was getting impossible to hold the other guy back. He tried and tried, tried to focus on Tony and kissing his back, his scars running down the top of his neck to the small of him, but the other guy wasn't having any of this and there was twitching and shaking.

“Bruce? Are you okay?”

“N-n-n– ”

It was too late. Bruce pulled himself out, quickly quickly, cock still hard, as Tony turned around and and and and

* * *

“Bruce? Bruce?”

It was early morning. He blearily opened his eyes and saw Tony standing above him, face bruised and his Iron Man suit on.

“Oh thank God.” Tony let out an enormous breath and put his head in his hand. “I almost thought you were dead. Do you remember anything?”

“I...” His vision adjusted, and he saw the debris around him. He was outside, in a parking lot. New Jersey, judging from the Manhattan skyline behind him. “All I can remember is... we were in the lab, and then...”

“Your hypothesis was correct,” he said. “It was too much for you.”

“Did I...?” He made a gesture around his face.

“No. This wasn't you.” Tony touched him reassuringly on the shoulder, eyes full of pity, but also understanding and acceptance. “I tripped on your big green feet after I managed to fly you over the Hudson. You smashed up some cars, but other than that, no harm done. Although... you did try to hump my leg. Which was kind of interesting. Also pretty terrifying, but I took it like a champ.”

Bruce gave a broken laugh.

“My insurance is gonna go through the roof 'cause of you. Hope you know that. God knows how much it's gonna cost to reimburse all of these people. I hope you're happy.” Tony was grinning, but Bruce couldn't stop shaking.

“I'm sorry,” he said hoarsely. 

“Yeah, well, you did warn me. Can't blame a fella for trying.” He extended his hand. Bruce grabbed it and Tony pulled him up. “You should probably put some clothes on, though.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or not. Entirely up to you. I'm definitely not complaining.”

Bruce could only nod. He crossed his arms to cover himself – not his nakedness, just... him.

“Hey.” Tony pulled him closer and forced Bruce to look at him. “It's okay. You're okay. We'll figure this out. Alright?”

“It shouldn't have happened,” he said, voice raspy. “We shouldn't have done it in the first place. It was a mistake.”

“It was _not_ a mistake,” Tony chastised. “Don't you dismiss it. Don't you dismiss _me_. We'll be fine. It's going to be fine. We'll get you some clothes, and we'll go to McDonald's, and we'll have a burger, and we'll go home, and we'll sort everything out. Just you wait and see.”

All he could do was nod.

“Okay. Let's get out of here before people show up and start wondering why Iron Man is escorting a naked dude away from a wrecked parking lot. C'mon.”

Bruce laughed again and fought back the tears – god, the last thing he wanted to do was cry naked in public, how pathetic – and followed Tony to a clothesline where they stole some shirts and pants and hopped the fence over to the fast food place down the road.

“So, cock-blocked by the Hulk,” Tony said as he shoved a mouthful of burger down his gullet. “It's just a hard knock life for you, isn't it?”

“Yep,” Bruce said. “Just can't win.”

“Well, we'll work it out. There has to be a way for it to be done. I mean, you managed to control him to some extent, right? So there'll be a way to do this. And y'know, when we do the math and arrive at a solution...” He trailed off meaningfully.

“More experiments?”

“Exactly.”

Bruce smiled, and looked around at all the patrons staring at Tony, who was still in his Iron Man suit. “You don't know the meaning of the word 'inconspicuous', do you?”

“Nah.” He threw down his napkin. “Finished? Let's go.”

And as Tony grabbed him and shot up into the sky, and Bruce looked down at the tiny specks of people and the clouds, and finally at the stoic and unreadable face of the Iron Man, he chortled to himself and held on tighter.

“Wait,” he said, the wind practically carrying his words away. “What about your girlfriend? What about Pepper?”

There was a very long pause. “One problem at a time,” Tony Stark, the Iron Man, said.

“Okay,” Bruce Banner, the Incredible Hulk, said.

This whole thing was ridiculous and wrong and messed up – the both of them were – but he was having the time of his life anyway.


End file.
